Take My Hand
by chasinghayden
Summary: I don't think I'm strong enough," Miley sobs. "Shh," he whispers. "It's okay. Just take my hand. We can do this." There were only so many bruises Miley could take before she started breaking. Will five miracles fix all the broken pieces? Niley, rated T.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: Hey, I'm Hayden. And this is my first story 'Take My Hand.' Sorry about the really corny title, I suck at those. This is rated T for some language. Please review and tell me what you guys think of it! Constructive criticism is always welcome but don't forget that this is my first chapter of my first story and I don't usually write this kind of stuff soo... Enjoy (:**

* * *

Characters:  
Miley Cyrus as Miley Stewart  
Nick Jonas as Nicholas Gray  
Demi Lovato as Demi Torres  
More characters to be announced later as they come into the story...

**Take My Hand  
c h a p t e r o n e **

For Miley and Nick, it was like learning how to ride a bike when you were five. Each time you fell, you kept trying. You kept trying, hoping the next time would finally be when you were able to pedal all the way down the sidewalk without falling, without getting bruised. But Miley was going on her fourth round of InVitro because the first three had failed. And there were only so many bruises she could take before she started breaking.

---

"Babe," Nick says to Miley in a whisper. They are in the waiting room of their fertility doctor, painstakingly waiting for their name to be called.

"What?" Miley asks him, having been pulled away from her thoughts.

"You're shaking. Everything is going to work this time, it's all going to work out," he tells her, trying to reassure his wife. He is trying to stay positive, telling her it will be alright but the truth is, he doesn't even know himself. Each time they have found out the fertility treatments had failed, he broke from seeing his wife get slightly more depressed each time the doctor told them the bad news. He doesn't want her to feel like that anymore. That's why last night he prayed and prayed, that God would give Miley a baby. Just one, precious, healthy baby. Boy or girl. He just wanted his wife to be happy because he knows that no matter what he does, gifts or vacations, nothing will make her as happy as a baby will.

"I'm sorry. I'm nervous," she admits to him. As he takes her hand in his and gently squeezes it, Miley's name is called.

"Miley Gray," an overweight middle-aged nurse reads off a clipboard.

"Here," Miley says as she gets up from the stiff waiting room couch they were sitting on. Nick follows behind her as the nurse leads the both of them into the exam room.

-

"Mrs. Gray, how are you?" a cheery Dr. Winters says as she pushes open the door. She smiles warmly at Miley, as they have grown quite close over the past two years. Two years of failed pregnancies.

"I'm very well, Dr. Winters. Thank you," she lies.. Truth is, she's terrified. Heartbroken. Depressed. Hopeful.

"And you, Mr. Gray?"

"Fine, thanks," Nick tells Dr. Winters. He gives Miley's hand another squeeze, and she looks at him, grateful he is at her side.

"So, I wanted to talk to you both before we head into the other room and begin the procedure," Dr. Winters informs them.

"Is everything okay? The embryos, they're fine?" Miley quickly goes into panic mode. Dr. Winters smiles at her slight anxiety.

"Yes, everything is perfectly fine but, this is your fourth time doing this procedure. And, since the first three weren't successful..."

"You're saying this will be the last try?" Nick asks.

"I'm saying that it might be the best for both Miley and you, and her uterus for that matter, if we stopped for awhile after this one. If, in fact, this one is unsuccessful, I might recommend other options," she explains to Miley and Nick.

"Other options as in adoption and surrogacy? But, Dr. Winters, you know I want to carry my own baby. I want to know what that feels like," Miley whispers, tears pooling in the corners of her blue-gray eyes.

"Miley, I know you do. But as your doctor, your health comes first to me. I'm not saying never try again, I'm simply saying we should not pursue it for awhile. Let your body gain it's strength back. These unsuccessful pregnancies and implantations do take a toll on you," the doctor explains.

"Oh, I see," a shaking Miley says. She holds onto Nick's hand, never letting go, and stares at the tiled floor. "But, hey, who said this one will be unsuccessful, right?" she murmurs, bouncing back and snapping out of her state of confusion, shock, sadness.

"That's the right attitude, Miley," Dr. Winters agrees. "The nurse will get you prepped and I'll see you in there, okay?"

Miley and Nick both nod, and as Nick looks at his wife, he can't help but see the hurt that lies in her eyes.

-

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out, Miley repeats over and over to herself silently. She lies on the examination chair/table in the cool, blue room where Dr. Winters will be performing the procedure. She hates how familiar the room is to her. It isn't supposed to be something she had memorized.

She knows the drawer where the latex gloves are kept; second in, third one down. She knows where the awaiting embryos are kept; in the refrigerator, fourth shelf. She hates how she knows where everything is, every single thing's spot.

Miley crosses her arms over her stomach as Dr. Winters, clad in her usual dark blue scrubs, enters the room. "This one's going to work, Miley, I know it," she states. Even though Miley can't see half of Dr. Winters face because her mask is covering it, she knows she is smiling and, she knows she means what she said.

-

"Done already?" Nick asks as he stands up from the chair he was previously slumped in. Waiting for her never gets any easier.

She nods, clearly still feeling a little down and upset.

Nick slides his hand into hers, feeling her hand mold to his comfortably. "So, feel pregnant yet?" he asks as they walk through the parking lot, toward their car.

She lets out a laugh and her eyes gleam for a second, but they quickly return to their duller appearance even as the smile lingers on her face. "No, but I do feel like if I don't keep my legs up, these things are going to fall out of me."

Now, it's his turn to laugh. "I'll make sure you stay in bed for weeks, until were one thousand percent positive that those babies have latched on."

"Ew, could you not word it like that? Makes me want puke," Miley whines.

"Puke? Like morning sickness? Mi, do you feel sick already?" Nick questions.

"Nick! If you don't shut up, I'll smack you. AND, make you sleep on the couch."

"I honestly wouldn't mind, Mi, that couch is really comfortable."

"I wasn't talking about that one, idiot. I'm talking the one in the basement," she says as she slides into the car, feeling the leather seats mold to her body.

"The one in the basement? Miles, my grandpa had that couch when he was in the nursing home!"

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you not remember the certain things he could not control? Why do you think he was in the nursing home in the first place!" he exclaims, completely disgusted by the the thought of actually sleeping on that... thing they called a couch.

"Oh. I guess I do remember now. Oh, well," she lies. She smiles to herself as Nick nervously bounces his leg as their car smoothly pulls out of the parking lot.

-

"Do you feel pregnant yet?"

"Dem, that's the same thing Nick asked me! No, I do not feel pregnant," Miley half-yells into the phone as she speaks to her best friend, Demi.

"Well, in my opinion it's a completely logical question."

"I'm not going to feel pregnant until my stomach is the size of a beach ball, the baby is kicking the hell out of me or until I can't see my feet because my stomach is so big. And since none of those things are happening..."

"Fine, I get it. You don't feel pregnant."

"Exactly."

"I hope you are, though," Demi sighs.

"I hope I am too," Miley murmurs, her heart dropping a little. She really, really wants a baby. It isn't that much to ask for, right?

"It's going to happen, Mi. You and Nick will have a baby and you'll be complete. It just might take some time."

"Yeah, time I don't want it to take. I'm too impatient. I've wanted a baby for so long... I just thought it'd be so much easier than it has been. It's been like hell for me, Dem," she says to her best friend.

"I know, sweetie. You have nothing to stress about this time, those babies will latch on and-"

"Demi!"

"What?" Demi questions, confused.

"That's the exact same thing Nick said."

"Oh. My bad?"

Miley groans. "I'll talk to you later, Demi. I got to go make dinner."

"You still make dinner? Wow, you really are wonder woman."

"Don't you?"

"If you call heating up take-out leftovers cooking..."

-

Miley and Nick's quest for a baby all started two months after they got married. They got married fairly young, at twenty-two but that didn't seem to affect Miley's want for a baby of their own. She wanted to have a belly, knowing her baby was growing inside of her, even if it made her fat. She wanted to be able to scream and practically break Nick's hand during labor even though it would be painful. She wanted to hold the tiny baby in her arms, not caring if it was a boy or a girl, just that he or she was healthy and was theirs. She just wanted it so bad.

Two months into their marriage, they started "trying". And for seven months after that, it didn't seem to be working. Miley figured the root of the problem was something besides bad timing. Both Miley and Nick went to their respective doctors, trying to figure out which one of them was the reason. Turns out, Miley was.

Some disorder that has an incredibly long, medical name was the problem. Hence the infertility, hence the inVitro.

-

Miley's POV. (a/n: I usually won't skip around between POV's)

Sometimes I wonder if I'm completely insane. I'm only twenty-five. I've been married for two freakin' years. And for those two years, we've been trying for a baby. Sounds pretty darn insane to me. I've had a lot of time to think, too much if you ask me. I ask myself, "Why am I doing this? Why am I trying so hard for something I might not get? I'm only half way through my twenties, shouldn't I be getting drunk or stoned or both?"

And as always, I don't have an answer. Except, there is this tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me the reason why I've been so determined to have a child. It's simply because I want it. I want to have a baby and I don't know why, but I haven't been able to stop fighting for it. I can't, it's like my mind and my body won't let me stop. It's impossible to explain in a way that doesn't make you think I should be locked up in some institution. But it's true, and it's there. The want... It's always going to be there.

Nick locked himself in his office, yet again. I don't understand him sometimes. He can be two different people; the one I married, the one I fell in love with and the one who is a complete stranger to me. It's as if he is on a line, faltering between the two sides, not knowing where to go. I'm guessing because he knows where his weaknesses lie in both so he can't make up his mind. What to choose. Where to go. He just needs to open up his eyes so he can see I'm here for him, reaching out my hand, ready to take on the world with him.

-

Miley's POV.

One month, two days. One month and two days since Dr. Winters implanted the embryos in my uterus. Just thinking about it, saying it, makes me want to puke. I've never been good with the whole blood/body/organs thing.

Nick and I have an appointment this afternoon. And for me, this appointment will change A LOT of things. I'm not completely sure if it will alter Nick's feelings, if it will change him like it will me, considering he's barely spoken a word for awhile. I keep telling myself it's simply stress, but I don't even know anymore. He's my husband, I should know. I sleep next to him every night and I feel like each hour that passes, he's slipping away into some unknown blue abyss, where he'll hide and cower because for some fucked up reason, he doesn't want to talk to me.

Afternoon comes, and we both silently slide out of the comfortable leather seats and into the breezy September air. Septembers in California are really beautiful. Nick slips his hand into mine, catching me off guard. We've barely spoken, let alone touch each other. Except for the occasional leg-kick in the middle of the night, of course. But those are always accidental.

I look up at him, the sun causes me to squint a little bit. And through the bright rays of light, I see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. I smile back, not only my lips but my heart and soul too. I stand on my tippy-toes, lean up and kiss him on the cheek and I feel his hand tighten around mine, telling me 'We're going to be okay.'

BAM! Chapter One! Do you like it? Love it? Hate it, want it to die? I really liked it actually. The ending was my favorite. PLEASE REVIEW! It would make my day (: x hayden.

P.S. I promise the next chapters will be longer (:


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: Here's chapter two! I hope you enjoy it. Please review! Oh, and if there is any mistakes... Sorry! I was too lazy to check it twice.**

Take My Hand  
c h a p t e r t w o

Time passes too slowly sometimes. It's like each second turns into a minute, a minute into a hour. And all you can do is wait because the more you wish time would pass, the slower it creeps along.

"How long have we been in here?" I sigh as I stare at the faded blue door.

"Ten minutes, I think," Nick answers.

"It feels like hours."

"Yeah, it does," he agrees.

When I was called from the waiting room, the nurse took my blood to run a blood test to see if I was pregnant. She told us that Dr. Winters would also do a physical exam to check, along with an ultrasound. I guess she didn't realize we had been through this too many times before. We knew the procedure perfectly.

Knock, knock.

Dr. Winters enters the room with her usual smile, "Hi, how are you?"

I smile, "Nervous."

She looks at me, her ocean-blue eyes wide. "Why? There's nothing to be nervous about."

"There is if it turns out I'm not pregnant," I tell her as she motions for me to lie back on the table.

"Trust me, it's going to work this time," she tries to reassure me. I can't help but doubt her, though.

Nick sits silently in his chair beside the table, his hand has long let go of mine. Who knows what that was about.

"Dr. Winters," a nurse pokes her head through the door, "Mrs. Gray's test results are in."

"Oh, perfect timing." She smiles at me, "One second, Miley. I'll be right back."

Dr. Winters walks out the door, shuts it behind her and I turn to Nick.

"What's up with you lately?" I don't bother holding back. He's pissing me off with his attitude and silence. Is he even my husband anymore? Or is he just a stranger I married who I've been trying to have a baby with?

"Miley, what are you talking about? Nothing's up."

"Don't give me that, Nicholas. You've barely spoken for a month. A month, Nick. Don't tell me nothing is going on with you!" I guess I'm angrier than I thought.

"Miley, can we not do this here-"

"Do what? Have a conversation for once? You've barely talked to me lately, it's like I don't know you. Just tell me what's bothering you so we can go back to the way things were. Whatever it is, we can fix it," I say to him softly.

Nick sighs and runs his fingers through his curly hair. God, I love that hair. The night before we got married, I had so many butterflies fluttering in my stomach that I managed to convince myself I only agreed to marrying him because I was in love with his hair. But a few hours later I realized I was being completely psychotic. Anyway, not the point.

"Miley, I just... I don't want to see you get hurt again," he admits to me. Hurt? What does he mean?

"Hurt by what? You've never hurt me," I tell him. "Well, except for that time in college that you made out with Demi. Yeah, that really hurt now that I think about it..."

"Miley, you know I was-"

"Drunk, yes. I know. But still. Anyway, that's not what we're supposed to be discussing."

"I don't want to see you break more and more because you can't get pregnant," he murmurs to me, tucking a strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear. Chills run up and down my spine just by his touch. Should I be embarrassed he still has the same effect on him me since we first met eight years ago? We were seventeen. Back then, I wanted to be seventeen forever. There was nothing to think about, to stress over. Besides college applications, of course. But back then, we didn't have to deal with doctors and pregnancy tests and physical and emotional pain. Honestly, when you're seventeen, everything is simple and blissful.

"I'm not breaking, Nick," I lie.

"Mi, you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after each failed pregnancy. Don't tell me you're not breaking and hurting from all of this. I'm hurting, I can't imagine how much you are," he confesses.

Why must he always see through me? Am I that obvious?

"It hurts," I pause, "a little." I play with the six bracelets on my left wrist, trying to hide the burning sensation that is creeping into my eyes. Damn tears.

"Hey," he whispers softly, pushing my chin up with his thumb gently. I don't want to look at him. Looking at him will just make me break down and I can't do that. Breaking down would mean I'm weak. "It's okay that it hurts, Miley. It's okay."

I look at him, see his chocolate brown eyes show the beginnings of tears. By now, the tears have already spilled over, dripping down my cheeks. "It really hurts, Nick." Through the tears and a sob, I choke out the three words I didn't want to say but knew I needed to.

"May I come in?" Dr. Winters asks from the other side of the door.

"Yes, of course," I say, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

She walks in. Not smiling... Oh, god. This cannot be good. Bring on the waterworks.

"So," she says taking a seat on the rolling stool that's shoved against the calming blue-green wall. "We've got your blood tests back."

"That was quick," I say. I feel like a ton of bricks just fell into my stomach. Can't she just spit it out? Am I WITH child or NOT?

"Yes, luckily we have the machine right here in the office."

"Dr. Winters? What are the results?" I ask her softly. She's dragging on, so it must be bad news, right? If it was good news, I'd figure she'd be jumping up and down with me but then she'd tell me to stop because I'm pregnant and that just would not be good for the tiny human growing inside me, depending on me. Depending on me to give it life, to keep it safe, to love it unconditionally.

"Well, I'm extremely happy to tell you two that you, Miley, are indeed pregnant. At least one of the embryos implanted!" she says excitingly.

Oh, my god. I can't believe this. I'm actually pregnant! I mean, I've been pregnant once before but that one miscarried. And the other two times simply did not work. But this one did! It worked... It actually was successful.

"You're joking, right?" I ask her, half of me knows she's telling the truth and the other half doesn't exactly believe her. Nick slips his hand into mine, and I look at him. He's nervous. I can tell from the way his eye brows are slightly raised. He's desperate for her reassurance just as I am.

She smiles. "Nope, it's not a joke!"

"Oh, my god!" I let go of Nick's hand and turn to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He takes a second to hug back, probably because he's shocked. But a good shock, of course. A happy shocked.

"You're pregnant," he whispers softly against my neck. His hot breath and low voice send shivers down my spine and I smile.

"No, we're pregnant," I tell him, hugging him tighter. And then, we both start to laugh. We just can't believe it.

--

"Surprise!" Demi says as I swing open the front door of Nick and I's three-story, beautifully renovated Victorian. In each hand, Demi has a pink baby outfit and a blue one.

"Hey, Dem," I tell her as she shuffles past me through the doorway. Hanging from her arms are shopping bags. I let the door glide close as I gently push it and follow her into the kitchen.

"I got some things for you," she says in a sing-songy voice. Her hair is black and straight; how it's been ever since we were seventeen and she wanted it to be dark. Mine's been changing practically every two months since. Probably not too healthy for my hair.

"Ooh, let's see."

"Well, as you see in my right hand," she pauses, holding up the pink outfit, "we have this adorable baby shirt, hoodie and leggings combo. All designed in various shades of pinks."

I smile at her imitating a salesperson. She doesn't really have to "sell" me the idea of these things, I'm ready for every single baby thing I can get my hands on. Bottle warmer? Yeah. Baby swing? Oh, yeah. Diaper genie? Hell yes! She continues to show me the second blue outfit.

"And here," she says while digging around in one of the shopping bags, "is a very cute, very neutral yellow baby outfit! See, it's perfect. I've got all your bases covered. A pink outfit in case it's a girl, a blue in case it's a boy and this yellow one in case it's a hermaphrodite."

"Your kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding," she says with the most seriousness expression adorning her face.

"Um, okay..."

"Of course I'm kidding, Mi! I got the yellow one so it can go for either a boy or a girl."

"Oh, thank God. You had me worried for a minute," I tell her, clearly relieved.

"And I got these adorably cute and preppy pacifiers! Look, they're plaid!" Demi exclaims, holding up two three-pack pacifiers.

"Demi, I love that you've got all this stuff for me but I haven't even gotten anything. I've gone through all the other stuff I've gotten in the past but I only found out I was pregnant two weeks ago!"

"I know. I just couldn't control myself. When I walked past that new baby boutique on Main-"

"Oh, SweetPea? Yeah, I've wanted to go there for awhile."

"Girl, you totally should. It's so cute," she replies. We both laugh and continue to go through her shopping bags.

"Oh! I almost forgot," I say, pausing from admiring a frilly holiday dress. "Look," I tell her and lift up my flowy aqua top. "It's obviously not big, but you can see I'm starting to get a bump! I don't have a flat stomach anymore." I look down at my slightly protruding stomach and realize that it actually seems bigger than it did a few days ago. "I think I've gotten bigger, Dem."

"Miles, you're huge! I love it," she says excitedly and gives me a warm hug. I hug her back, knowing she's just as excited as I am. She's been by my side through this whole ordeal over the years and it never occurred to me how much she is a part of me.

"Thank you, Dem. For being here for me, through everything," I say softly.

--

"Nick? Can we talk?" I ask as I knock gently on the door of his office at our house. His back is turned to me and he's hunched over his desk, typing away on his computer. The only source of light is the bright little lamp perched on the corner of his dark oak desk.

"Sure," he says, twisting in his seat to face me. I press my lips together and intertwine my fingers as I walk in. I sit in the chair next to his desk, feeling much too like a student in the principal's office. Almost as if he is hearing my thoughts, he nods to the couch in the other corner of the room. "Let's sit there."

After we both settle comfortably, I take a deep breath. "So, things have been better recently, right? Like for us and everything."

He smiles, but I can see that it's only half-heartedly. "You know, you stopped being able to fool me with your fake smiles a long time ago," I tell him, with a small smile of my own. He knows I'm only teasing him.

"Sorry, I'm just tired. Back to your question, things have been great, Mi. Do you think so?" he asks, shifting to face me better on the dark red couch cushion.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. I mean, we've always had our rough patches, right?" I rhetorically ask with a small shrug of my shoulders. "But with all this pregnancy shit, things have just gotten worse. And I think since we, well, mostly I, was focusing on just trying to have a baby that we never got a chance to work out all of our problems." I inhale another deep breath and shove my hands under my legs that are hanging over the edge of the cushion. "And then you didn't want to talk for a whole month, then we sort of got over that but I still feel like you're pulling away from me."

"Mi, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," I whisper softly. "But I'm not sure, maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the one pulling away and I just don't realize it."

"Miley," he says, bringing his hand to my cheek. His touch makes me look up at him, he keeps his hand gently touching my cheek. "Look at me. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, okay? We've just been feeling the stress of all of this. But," he pauses, his eyes lighting up, "we don't have to stress anymore. 'Cause we've got this little one," he tells me, with a complete and genuine 'Nick' smile. He brings his hand to my stomach, placing it on the slightly showing bump. "We can finally be complete, Mi. And I'll never want to leave that. Never."

"Okay," I whisper back and a small smile forms on my lips. The weight of feeling like I've been feeling, whatever that exactly is, has finally been lifted off of my shoulders. It's like the sun has finally rose after a long, dark night and it's revealing something great. In our case, it's revealed a sweet little angel. An angel that is truly our tiny miracle.

**And that was chapter two! It wasn't that long, sorry ): I would've uploaded this last night but I watched My Sister's Keeper with my boyfriend. And oh, my god, that movie is so depressingly sad. But it was like so full of hope too. Anyway, I was crying so hard that I didn't have the energy to update. But here it is now! I hope you enjoy. Please review! I'm so thankful to all of the reviewers who reviewed on the first chapter. You have no idea how much it means to me! Love you guys. x hayden.**


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